


go slowly with me now

by NoirSongbird



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, Pining Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-05 01:31:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17909438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoirSongbird/pseuds/NoirSongbird
Summary: Keith needs a date to his mom's wedding. Unfortunately for Shiro, he's Keith's first choice--unfortunatelybecause Shiro would really, really like to be dating Keith for real, and faking it might just be the death of him.





	go slowly with me now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cutcrease](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutcrease/gifts).



“Shiro, please.” Keith’s eyes were doing the big, painfully sparkly thing they did sometimes, and it was like getting gently smacked in the face. “I know this probably seems like a completely stupid idea, but if I show up without a date to my mom’s wedding, she’s gonna get worried about me, and it’s her big day, I don’t want her to be worried. It took her forever to be okay with seeing someone after Dad died, and she and Romelle make each other so happy, I don’t want to ruin that.”

The open, actual truth was that all of the sparkling and pleading was completely unnecessary, because Takashi Shirogane was wholly incapable of saying no to Keith. Keith could ask him to go and catch a falling star, and Shiro would make every effort to do it.

This was, Shiro suspected, the sort of thing Lotor meant when he referred to Shiro as “a giant gay disaster.” 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Shiro asked, because outright saying no to his best friend (who also happened to be the object of his desperate pining affections, but Keith didn’t need to know that) was out of the question, but someone should probably ask. “Your mom knows me, won’t she think it’s weird that we’re suddenly dating?” 

“I actually think she’s more surprised that we’re not dating  _ yet?” _ Keith shrugged apologetically, and Shiro prayed that he wasn’t blushing as hard as he felt like he was. “So she’ll probably just be really happy for me, when I tell her you’re my plus-one—if you want to be my plus-one?” And there they were again, the big sparkly pleading eyes.

Goddamnit.

“Yeah, I’d be happy to,” Shiro said, and he forced himself to smile, even though he could feel his heart twisting up.

Fake dating Keith was going to be the death of him, he knew it.

 

* * *

From moment one, the day of the wedding itself, Shiro was completely certain Keith was  _ trying  _ to kill him. There was no way he could possibly be unaware of how good he looked, in a tailored suit, hair done in a perfect braid over his shoulder. Sure, Keith was powerfully oblivious to the idea that people found him attractive, but this was...something else.

“That, uh, looks good on you,” Shiro said, and he reached up to self-consciously smooth his own hair back. He’d been letting it grow out, too, but his ponytail felt lazy and silly next to all the care Keith had clearly put in.

“Thanks,” Keith said, flushing and scuffing his foot a little against the ground. “You, uh. Look good too.”

It was cute, to see Keith look so shy and nervous. Shiro wasn't used to that; normally Keith was all confidence, or at least that was the way he presented himself. It was always something of a blessing to get to see him be vulnerable, on the rare occasion it happened.

"So, uh. We're gonna do this, then?" Shiro asked, and he couldn't help but offer Keith one last out. "For sure?"

"We're gonna do this, yeah," Keith said, and then he reached out and linked his arm with Shiro's, and tugged him towards the waiting limousine.

 

* * *

The entire ceremony, Shiro's heart was in his throat. Keith leaned against him the whole time, fingers entwined with his, and the soft, fond smile on his face as he watched Krolia and Romelle exchange vows was the cutest thing Shiro had seen in a long time. He looked so  _ happy _ , and why wouldn't he be? Krolia was gorgeous in her white suit, and Romelle was radiant in her gown, and Shiro had known Keith's mother for years, ever since she came back into Keith's life, and he was pretty sure he'd never seen her look as happy as she did when she bent to kiss her new wife. 

There was no reason for Shiro to be as tense as he was, except that the love of his life was leaning against his side, smiling, and squeezing his hand, and all of it was fake. All of this was a scheme to make sure that Krolia could enjoy her day, and it seemed to be working, for the most part.

Keith kept holding his hand all the way over to the reception hall, and didn't let go even when Krolia and Romelle greeted them at the door. The thing that finally made him do it was Krolia sweeping him into a hug, and Shiro's heart ached for the loss of contact.

"You look great, Mom," Keith said fondly. Krolia laughed.

"You're sure? I don't look like some ancient old crone?" She asked, and Keith frowned and shook his head.

"Come on, Mom, you're not old, don't do that." He had a point, Shiro had to acknowledge. Krolia and Keith's father had him young, and it showed; she was just barely forty, and even though her new wife was significantly younger, they hardly looked out of place together.

That Romelle was being as insistently physical and affectionate towards Krolia as Keith had been to Shiro probably had something to do with making them look like the blissfully newlywed couple they were, Shiro had to admit.

When Krolia turned her smile on him and swept  _ him _ into her embrace, Shiro felt his heart do a painful little flip-flop. This almost felt unfair, because she looked  _ so _ thrilled.

"And Shiro! I'm so glad you and Keith are finally together!" She squeezed him again, and Shiro couldn't help but squeeze back. "I told him it was about time, when he told me you were going to be his date!"

Apparently Keith had been entirely correct about how happy his mother would be about the two of them being a couple.

"I'm really lucky," Shiro said, "to have the chance to be with him." Which was the truth. Even if this wasn't real, just getting to  _ pretend _ to date Keith for a day was a blessing. He caught Keith's eyes right after he said that, and watched them go a little wide with what looked like very genuine surprise, then soften into something almost painfully fond.

"I'm glad you know that," Krolia said, and then she laughed. "Anyway, my wife and I have a first dance to do, so the whole wedding party can feel better about their skills after they see me," she said.

"It won't be that bad," Romelle encouraged, and Krolia shook her head.

"Daisy, you saw me in class. You know exactly how bad it is," she said, and Romelle stuck out her tongue.

"It'll be fine," she said, and she tugged Krolia off. As the strains of “A Thousand Years” started to play over the reception hall's speakers and the gathered guests cleared off the dance floor to give Krolia and Romelle space, Shiro turned to Keith.

"You weren't kidding about her being happy," he said, and Keith hummed a halfhearted agreement, but his eyes were on Krolia and Romelle, slow-dancing like a pair of teenagers at prom. He looked a little sad, which seemed odd to Shiro. "You okay, Baby?" he asked, endearment slipping out thoughtlessly the way it tended to. Keith frowned a little deeper, and then shook his head.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, in a tone that Shiro could really only interpret as him being very much Not Fine. "I'm gonna go get another glass of punch, d'you want something to drink?"

"Uh, sure, get me a glass," Shiro agreed, and he frowned after Keith as he walked away. What  _ was _ that?

While Keith was over at the drinks table, Krolia and Romelle finished their dance, which opened the dance floor up to everyone else. He arrived about halfway through the second song and offered Shiro a cup, though his eyes were on the dance floor the entire time. He glanced from the floor, back to Shiro, like he was evaluating something while he finished his drink. As the second song tapered off and silence took its place for a brief break, he made a determined noise, and extended a hand.

"Come dance with me," he said, and Shiro blinked, and then shook his head.

"Oh, no, Keith, come on, I have two left feet, you know that," he said, but Keith's determination didn't waver.

"You can't be worse than my mom, and it's still a slow dance, they're warming up to the party stuff. You just have to not step on my feet." He paused, for a moment, like he was considering his angle of attack. "And if we don't dance, Mom will worry something's wrong."

That was a very valid point that Shiro was not eager to acknowledge.

"Okay," he said, and he let Keith lead him out onto the floor. Once they were on it, with the strains of “Andante, Andante” playing, Keith's expression softened, to something warm and fond, and he took the lead casually. It was much easier, Shiro found, to just follow, and he couldn't help but meet Keith's soft smile with one of his own. He knew his heart had to be racing, and his cheeks were probably a little flushed, but he found that he didn't care.

Even if he got nothing else at all out of this, he was never going to forget slow-dancing with Keith, surrounded by other couples, and knowing that even if none of it was real, and even if they'd go back to just being friends once this was over, for a few minutes—or a few hours, he supposed—Keith was his.

The song drifted to an end, and Shiro was left staring down at Keith, feeling his heart pound like he'd just run a marathon instead of done a slow dance, with the indescribable urge to lean down and kiss him.

He didn't realize he actually  _ had _ until he felt Keith make a tiny gasping noise against his lips. He started to pull back, and Keith let him go, and Shiro had the uncomfortable feeling that they were suddenly very much the center of attention, even as Keith casually hustled him off the dance floor and to one of the tables to sit down.

“What  _ was _ that?” Keith asked, when they sat, and Shiro realized that he was blushing, too, bright red cheeks a sharp contrast to his indigo eyes. 

“I’m sorry, I got a little caught up in the moment,” Shiro said, and he winced and stared down at the table, guiltily. All around them, the party was continuing, and no one seemed to be paying too much more attention to them, which was good, because Shiro wasn’t sure he could take any more staring. 

Keith was silent for a long moment, and when Shiro glanced up, worried he would be furious, he was giving Shiro a long, scrutinizing look.

“...Did you mean it?” He asked. “To kiss me. The feelings behind it. Whatever.”

“I…” Shiro started to consider lying, but that wouldn’t be fair. Keith deserved to know. “Yes. I’m sorry, I know you don’t see me that way—”

His apology was interrupted by Keith surging forward to grab the front of his suit jacket and crash their lips together in another kiss. Shiro was operating half on instinct to reciprocate, reaching up to cup Keith’s cheek and lean in, letting out a tiny whine against his lips.

“Good,” Keith said when they broke apart, “because I mean it, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/noirsongbird) or [Pillowfort!](https://www.pillowfort.io/noirsongbird)


End file.
